Playing Psychiatrist
by Miss Junie
Summary: Written for the Valentine's Day Challenge at thankyou bucket.  It was complete madness, but neither could resist. Did Lucas deserve this? Whatever the case was, both were going to burn together.  Rated for swearing. Happy Valentine's Day!


**Author's note: **As mentioned, the amazing community thankyou_bucket is hosting a Valentine's Day challenge, and here is my result! I used two prompts: 16 A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superflous. **-Ingrid Bergman; **17 When love is not madness, it is not love **-Pedro Calderon de la Barca. **I just want to say a big THANK YOU to all my readers/reviewers, you are all incredible! If you're looking for a happier fic, head over to my other story, _The Dating Game_, which was started a little while back, and should be updated in about two days. Wishing you all either a very happy Single's Awareness Day, or a very happy Valentine's Day :)!

**Disclaimer: **Apparently no one got me a Valentine's Day gift *sobs*, haha.

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><p>Lucas hissed as she wiped his face gently, trying to get rid off all the blood. She eyed him warily.<p>

"I know what you're thinking." He said suddenly. "You're thinking that I deserved this."

Skye shook her head at him. "Lucas, what did you honestly think would happen when you took over Terra Nova? That the colonists would just give in to what you wanted?" She bit her lip, looking at him cautiously, still trying to get rid of the blood still seeping out the corner of his mouth. She turned away for a second, grabbing an icepack and handed it to him.

"To be honest, Bucket, I really don't care about the colonists. I care about getting revenge on Taylor. That's all I'm here for. I don't care about anything else." He winced as he pressed it the side of his face, eyes never leaving hers.

"Anything?" She said with an arched eyebrow. "I think you could've fooled Josh then, when you refused to let go of my hand just a couple of hours ago." Her stomach twisted, remembering the anger in Josh's face, and the complete surprise in Lucas as the momentum of the tray spun him off the stool, and onto the floor. The helplessness she had felt watching Josh slam the tray down again and again as she screamed for him to stop.

He chuckled lowly, smirking slightly, as much as he dared without reopening his cut lip. "Worried that I don't care about you, Bucket?" He said softly. She scoffed at him. He continued on as though he hadn't heard her. "Don't worry, Bucket, even with this jaded heart of mine, I'll still always _care_ about you." His eyes turned soft, and an emotion she refused to name shone from them.

"You have a funny way of showing it." She muttered, finally wiping the last of the blood away. "Hold this against your lip." She said roughly, placing his hand over the gauze on his lip. He lifted his hand, moving his jaw slightly, tensing in pain. It had never been in his nature to physically fight with someone, he much preferred using intelligence to work things out. So when the youngest Shannon had attacked him in Boylans, especially when he had done nothing to the little whelp, he could honestly say that he had been completely taken by surprise.

The kid definitely packed a punch, and he'd had quite a few hits in, as Lucas was trying to comprehend the first one, head already throbbing from the alcohol he'd imbibed, trying to calm himself down. When some of the Phoenix Soldiers had dragged the kid off him, Lucas knew what was expected of him, what he would have to do. And so he gave it to them. The pain he felt over _everything_, his Father's regret over his entire existence, the death of his Mother, Skye's betrayal, the list was endless. Knowing that he didn't want this dragged out, he put as much force as he could behind his punch, almost succeeding in knocking the kid out. He'd had to allow the soldiers to knock him around a bit, but the kid would barely feel it. It could have been a hell of a lot worse for him. Now, he was the one sitting in his office with a dislocated jaw, a hell of a lump on his skull, a headache that wouldn't relent, and seeing double.

Then, as he'd sat there, trying to smother his rage over the attack, he'd felt a metal bar swing into the back of his spine, just below his head. He'd lain on the floor completely stunned, panicking over the immense pain he felt travelling up and down his back, knowing that if it had been an inch higher or lower, chances are he would have been dead. After he'd assessed that he was still alive, he moved each limb carefully, panicking in case the hit could have caused paralysis. But thank God for the small mercies, Jim had managed to merely cause him a shit load of pain. He chuckled without amusement at the thought. God, or whatever higher power there was, had been anything _but_ merciful to him.

He'd lain there for a few seconds, slowly pushing himself to his feet, brushing off Skye as she ran to help him, knowing somehow that she was the cause behind Jim's attack, or at least his presence, he amended. He had felt rage, and even though he didn't want to admit it, pride, that she'd done that. That somehow, she'd found another way to thwart his plans. She'd always do what she felt needed to be done, even if it didn't agree with his plans, and that was just who she was. While he hated that it fucked up his plans, he couldn't help but admire her fire and audacity.

Skye quickly looked over at Lucas, slightly unnerved by his complete silence. She noticed his vacant expression, and rushed over to him, cupping the side of his face. "Lucas?" She said urgently. His gaze snapped back to hers, and he frowned at her, question in his eyes. She sighed in relief. "You could have a concussion." She said by way of explanation. "You're going to have to stay awake tonight, just to be on the safe side."

He snorted. "Safe? I don't think I've _ever_ been safe, Bucket." He said sneeringly. "And let's not forget in this case, weren't you the cause of this? Wasn't it you who went running for Daddy Shannon after Baby Shannon decided to hit me?" He smirked at her sarcastically. "I think it's _you_ who I owe credit to for this." He touched the side of his cheek gently, hissing at the pain.

"You mean, when Josh was trying to stop you from squeezing my hand?" She shot back, hands on her hips, eyes blazing with anger. "After I asked you to stop, and you still wouldn't? After you've invaded my _home_? Threatened my mother? Yes, please excuse _my_ actions." She said witheringly.

He laughed lowly. "By all means, Bucket. I'll excuse you. You have absolutely _no_ idea what it's like, do you?" He breathed softly. "Having to grow up, knowing you were a constant disappointment. Knowing that if you'd died, your Mother would have lived. Having to live with the man who saved countless other lives and families, but couldn't save his own. You'll have to just excuse _my_ actions." He spat witheringly.

She stared angrily at him. "And that just excuses everything you're doing?" She said angrily. "You know what this, this occupation, is going to do, and yet you're not bothered. You'd do anything to get back at him, wouldn't you?" Her eyes were ablaze with emotions, and it was all he could do not to get sucked in.

"Almost." He smiled gently at her. "I'm sure my Mother would feel the same way. His _wife_." He spat. "And you know what he did after he couldn't save her, Bucket? He just carried on. Pretended like it had never happened. Like she had never even existed. About a week later, I came home, and every trace of her had disappeared. It was like she'd never been there." He took in a deep breath. "He sat there at the table, drinking, not saying anything. When I asked where it had all gone, where everything about her had gone, photos, clothes, _anything_, he just stared at me, and walked away. And I knew in that instant that he would never forgive me. Never forgive me for taking her place." He gazed at her in agony. "Do you have _any_ idea of what that would feel like?" He whispered desperately. "Do you?" He asked louder, more urgent.

She knelt down next to him warily, eyes locked with his intense green ones, cupping his face in her hands. "I don't." She said softly. "But I know that when my Father died, it was like a part of my Mother died with him. I know what it's like to lose a parent, but you _don't_ need to do this. Do you want other people to suffer like you did?" She asked gently. "Do you want to live with the guilt of separating families who didn't need to be, in order to avenge yours?" Her eyes searched his, and his head fell back against the wall.

"I can't do this, Bucket." He said suddenly. "Don't ask this of me. It isn't fair."

She stood up, temper flaring. "What _isn't_ fair is you acting like you're the only one who things like this have ever happened too! Parents are supposed to be there for you, protect you, love you, but sometimes, they screw up. They're _people_, Lucas. Your father screwed up. Prove that you're better." She said urgently. "You can still fix this."

He shook his head slowly, chuckling weakly. "I can't fix anything, Bucket. My only path left is the one _my father_," he said sneeringly, "Left me.I'm broken. A long time ago. Something not even your dainty hands can fix." He lifted his head off the wall slowly. "Right now, I'm seeing double of you. Tell me how to fix that." He said suddenly, lifting his hands up to place over hers, still on his face, dropping the icepack and gauze on his lip to the floor.

She swallowed, still lost in the jade of his eyes. She shook her head. "You _definitely_ have a concussion." She said harshly.

"Which I _deserve_, of course." He said mockingly, eyebrows raising.

She shook her head at him in frustration. "Maybe you do." She said slowly. "Do _you_ think you deserve it?" She asked carefully.

He tilted his head to the side, looking at her, or her double, she wasn't sure, in amusement. "Playing psychiatrist now, Bucket?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Of course I deserve it." He huffed in cold amusement. "Obviously I've done something to piss off someone high up there, hence this entire screw up of a life." He smirked at her sarcastically.

"Then why do you continue screwing it up?" She said challengingly, folding her arms across her chest. "If you know what you're doing is screwed up, why keep it going?"

"Why not?" He shrugged lazily. "Who am I to mess with the universe's plan? My role is obviously to fuck things up." He pointed at her. "Yours is obviously to be the person who screws with my mind. To entice me with the things that once again, I can't have." He laughed harshly.

"I'm not listening to this," she muttered, turning to walk away from him, pulling her hands away from his. He reached out urgently and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to a stop, and she turned around and faced him.

"Why?" He asked curiously, head tilting slightly to the side.

She sighed deeply. "Other people have hard times too, Lucas, it's how they deal with them that matters. You're choosing to deal with yours by taking it out on everyone else, regardless of the consequences."

"Bucket, I don't think we're ever going to agree on this," he said with a sigh. "Do you honestly think that I want this? That I want innocent people dying? No. If you'd looked a little harder, you would have realized that. Instead you choose to see me as a monster. Someone who doesn't care about the innocents. Do you know how many people died before Phoenix took over? Did you know that all of those people killed more than one soldier back." She opened her mouth to protect, and he raised a hand, cutting her off. "I'm not saying it makes it right. What I'm saying is that Terra Nova should have been under Phoenix operation quite a number of years ago, only dear old Dad killed the person taking over before he could take control. I'm going to bet he never told you that, did he?" He smiled sardonically at her.

"So what you're saying is that we should just accept that our home is being taken over? That we should live with the people intent on destroying us, in peace?" She said exaggeratedly, mocking him.

He shook his head, grimacing in pain at the small movement. "No, what I'm saying is that you put your faith in the wrong man. The man who murdered another in cold blood to keep control of his _precious_ Terra Nova." He spat. "The Phoenix Soldiers are just doing what should have been done a long time ago. Ever think where those supplies are going, Bucket? Back to 2149, back to those people who are still stuck there, while we live here, squandered in luxury of fresh air, water, food, light. And you call _me_ selfish, and unthinking of the consequences?" He smirked at her. "Bet you didn't think about that, did you now, Bucket?"

She swallowed past the lump in her throat, staring at him.

"Don't look at me like that, Bucket," he said gruffly. "My employers control everything at Hope Plaza. I knew what was going to happen, and how _invaluable_ I am to them." He said sneeringly. "Rather than just exacting revenge on my Father, I chose to make sure that other people were protected before I started this plan, I'm not that selfish." He winked sarcastically at her, letting his head fall back to the wall, eyelids shutting momentarily, too exhausted to do much more.

"What are you going to do with the Shannons?" She asked suddenly.

His eyes snapped open, gaze locking with her desperate one. "You mean your _boyfriend_?" He said sneeringly.

Skye shook her head quickly. "He's not my boyfriend." She said flatly. "His girlfriend was just killed when your bomber walked through the portal." She said witheringly.

"Not something that was intended, believe me. Not something done on our end." He muttered, waving a hand absently.

"He just randomly decided to blow himself up?" She said sarcastically.

"How should I know, Bucket?" He asked with a sigh.

"You're the one with the Phoenix Group, not me." She hissed.

"People die in war, Bucket." He reminded her. "Or rather are just murdered in cold blood, like when my Father shot Philbrick." He chuckled lowly.

"What are you going to do with them?" She asked again.

He shrugged. "What can I do? I can't let them out in the colony, otherwise other colonists will get the idea that I'm alright with getting attacked and then letting them go. I've been a punching bag often enough, Bucket, I've got no desire to keep being one." He chewed on his lip absently, lost in memories.

"So you're going to keep them locked up?" She said painfully.

His gaze snapped back to hers. "Give me another option." He stared at her challengingly.

"Let them go." She said bluntly.

He snorted in response. "I think we already went through that option," he gently reminded her.

"Tell them that you were persuaded to let them go." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"And just exactly how was I _persuaded_?" He smirked at her.

"I'm sure you can think of something." She raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm sure I can too. But it's more fun leaving you to do the thinking." He winked at her.

"How would you like to be persuaded?" She asked disgustedly.

"Ah, no." He said teasingly. "You're doing the thinking here, remember? I have a concussion." He said smugly, pointing to his head, sad expression mocking her.

"Fine." She said angrily, taking another step closer to him, her legs brushing his slightly, and she leaned forward, placing her hands on his thighs, noting how he tensed up.

"What are you doing, Bucket?" He said lazily, trying to mask his tension.

"What do you think I'm doing, Lucas?" She whispered, drawing out his name, seeing his pupils dilate. She leaned further into him, moving her face closer to his, so they were barely inches away. She saw his eyes flicker to her lips, then back to her face. "What do you think I'm doing?" She whispered again.

"Not thinking." He said gently, reminding her.

She leaned in closer, closing the distance between them, placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth where it was split, thanks to Josh. She heard him hiss, and felt his hands come up to her hips. She slid her mouth across his jawline, kissing the blossoming bruise, another thanks to Josh. She felt his hands start to push her away, and she placed her

hands on top of his, stilling them.

He pushed his head back against the wall, breaking their contact. "I can't do this, Bucket." He whispered slowly.

"Why not?" She said huskily, stroking his hands gently.

He closed his eyes. "Because I'm not the type of bastard that would let you do this. I'll figure something out with your _friends_," he spat. "But you're not doing _this_ because you want them to be released. If you want me, come to me of your own volition, not because you're trying to _persuade_ me to do something." He said flatly. Skye stared at him in confusion. He laughed harshly. "It's not that hard to understand," he said, shaking his head. "You're quite obviously aware that I _care_ for you, Bucket," he said gently. "But next time you kiss me, I want you to kiss me because you _want_ too, not because you want me to do something for you." He looked at her sadly, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat.

"You'll let them go?" She said carefully.

His eyes flashed. "I'll let them go." He confirmed.

"Thank you." She whispered. He nodded his head at her slowly. She stood up, crossing the room to grab him some aspirin, knowing it would help ease the headache that he was already suffering, and would slowly be getting worse with his concussion. She grabbed a glass of water, and handed it to him, holding the pills in her hand. She kneeled down in front of him again, ignoring his look of confusion, and placed one tablet in his hand, watching as he swallowed it.

She handed him the other, watching as he completed the same process. She stood up, cupping his face in her hands, registering the confusion in his eyes, and carefully placed her lips on his again, trying to avoid his wounds. She kissed him softly, feeling him hesitate, and on a groan, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, responding back hungrily. He slanted his lips across hers, and as she moaned, his tongue slipped eagerly inside her mouth, mouths battling for dominance as she kissed him back just as eagerly.

He suddenly broke away. "What did I say Bucket?" He said harshly, trying to catch his breath, staring intently at her.

Skye shook her head, slightly teasingly. "I'm not doing this for _them_ Lucas, I'm kissing you because I want too. Because despite how much this," she indicated them both, "Is madness, I can't stop it. As much as I shouldn't, I care about you." She said softly. His gaze softened, and cupping her face in his hands, he carefully brought his lips back to hers.

She gently sat down on his lap, legs on the outside of his, trying to keep her balance. She broke the kiss gently, tilting her head to the side, kissing the corner of his mouth softly again. She slid her lips around to the bruises on his jawbone, kissing each one tenderly. She caressed the side of his face gently as he moaned in response. She lifted her head, leaning up to kiss the bruise on his forehead. He was covered in them, absolutely covered, and she knew there would be more coming, and others that she wouldn't see. She felt her heart clench in response. "I'm so sorry." She whispered softly against his forehead.

He chuckled against her neck. "So am I, Bucket. So am I." His voice caught slightly. He pulled her back to him, finding her lips again, kissing her tenderly. He broke the kiss softly, and she curled into him, his chin resting on her head. "This is madness." He said softly. He felt her nod slightly against his chest, and he smiled softly, dropping a kiss on her head, and pulled her in closer to him, determined to make the most of the time he could.

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><p>This has been playing in my mind for a little while now, and is finally written! As always, I love to hear your thoughts! Hope you all enjoyed, and hope you have a very happy February 14th whatever you do :)!<p> 


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